


Journey Through Darkness

by quoththeraven5



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Brotherly Angst, Death as a character, Doctor Angst - Freeform, Gen, Mentions of neglect, So much angst, Time War, familial drama, hopping through the time stream, maybe forms of violence in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quoththeraven5/pseuds/quoththeraven5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything changed when Thete ran away. He was always a little odd, but Sig never thought his elder brother’s oddness would result in him stealing a TARDIS and renouncing the practices of Time Lord Society all together.<br/>- Ever since he looked into the Schism, he was Death. Ever since he was Death, he was feared. It was a small wonder that he didn't go mad, unless he already was. He missed his big brother, no one else could make kites that flew through the orange sky was beautiful as Thete's. It wasn't the same after he left, mother and father had grown tight lipped and were always so worried he would turn out to be a failure just like Thete. There was no one to listen, no one to care; and lately he couldn't find it in him to give a damn. -</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoseMarthaDonnaTardis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseMarthaDonnaTardis/gifts).



Everything changed when Thete ran away. He was always a little odd, but Sig never thought his elder brother’s oddness would result in him stealing a TARDIS and renouncing the practices of Time Lord Society all together.

Sig was never very close to his brother, he himself was younger than even Thete’s youngest grandchild. Sig hadn’t even seen the tempered schism yet, whereas Thete had a large extended family of his own and reaching his first century.

He remembered the early days, when Thete would visit and play. Thete always knew the best games and made the most beautiful kites to fly in the orange Gallifreyan sky. His parents were happier then too, both of their sons were proper Time Lords and were as close as a four year old child and a Time Lord in his prime could be.

Maybe that time seemed so perfect and beautiful only because it was in contrast with the time after. But Sig believed that even if the differences were in fact minimal in nature, the fact that there were differences made the time after all the worse.

When Thete ran away, he became the shame of the family. The eldest boy, always so brilliant, squandering his gifts to play with the stupid apes of the galaxy. Leaving behind all of his family, only taking one of his grandchildren with; in a stolen TARDIS no less. The shame, the humiliation; how dare he become a blight on our prominent family! That was all Sig heard on the matter, he was never to speak of his brother in a positive light again; for if he did, mother would get tight lipped and father would get red with anger.

And thus, Sig named the time after the Event ‘PT’, post Thete; for time was always important and although Time Lords disliked arbitrary calendar systems, Sig persisted in his own private rebellion. A rebellion he hoped would never see the light of day, for he never wanted to disappoint his parents like his brother did.

\----

_5 PT_

The whispers of his parents followed him as he walked with the others. – _Don’t be like your brother – Be the good son, don’t be your brother – Do you see what he did? It was shameful, never do that! – Make us proud son, don’t run away – Don’t run away – Don’t run away – Don’t run – Don’t – Don’t – Don’t_!

Sig gulped, he wasn’t going to run, but oh how he wanted to. Why hadn’t Thete taken him with him? Didn’t he know that Sig loved his older brother? Didn’t he know that Sig hated the restrictions and rules as much as he did?

He wanted to run, to break the rules, to never come back; but he wasn’t going to run. His parents already lost one son and Sig did not know what they would do to him if he tried to leave. He wasn’t going to run, not with his parents’ voices in his head.

They stopped walking, it was time. One by one children stepped forward, ready for their childhood to end and the journey to becoming a Time Lord to begin.

Sig was afraid, he knew that there was only three options with this; you get inspired, you run away, or you go mad. Sig knew that if he ran away his parents would only see his brother and consider him a failure, he also knew that the madness could be slow. Thete had a friend that happened to, Sig had not met him, but from what Sig understood he and Thete were very close until the madness tore them apart. It was safe to say that Sig hoped to be inspired, that was by far the best option.

The child that was before him in line came bursting down the hill, the girl’s eyes wide with fear and adrenaline. Someone behind him snickered. Sig frowned, he wished he could run with her, away from this orange sky and away from his distant parents.

He was pulled forward, it was his turn to view the schism, to find his title, to understand his calling. Sig had always felt that the act was horrifying, who would risk sending their own children to madness for a single designation? And if one must do it, couldn’t they wait until they were older and their minds were fully developed?

As he neared the stone arch-way, a vortex of colors and sensations inside, he grew more afraid. What-ifs were going through his head, he could not fail; if he was destined to be one of the children that ran, he would remain no matter how scared, he would remain and pretend to be inspired. If he went mad then his parents would leave him alone and be content that he was not Thete; who knows, maybe Sig could find Thete’s old friend and hang out with him, after all being crazy is better with company.

Before he knew it, Sig’s vision was full of the vortex. The hypnotic spinning pulled him in until Sig found that he could not look away. He didn’t want to look away, he did not see Gallifrey, he saw everything else and nothing, all at once. There were voices screaming and voices singing, spinning and dancing stars filled his head and suddenly, silence. Sig heard and saw nothing in the vortex, it was empty and yet he was not afraid, he was not inspired, and he was not mad.

Simply put, Sig did not know what or who he was and that was all he needed to truly understand.

 

\---

“I am Death” He said to his parents that evening at the naming ceremony with all the other families and high officials waiting to see what this next generation will bring.

The chamber was silent with his answer, his parents widened their eyes and tried to fake a smile. It was then that he knew he made a mistake, he was still nothing more than a child. How was he to know that everyone would take what he said at face value and not even dream to ask what he really meant? If he was older, he would have known that such a frosty constitution was to be expected; for the one thing that the long living Time Lords all feared was death. It was the one thing in the universe that would always trump time, in the end death always came no matter how hard you try to avoid it, death will always come.

He did not mean to become the caricature of what his race feared most, but he did. No matter how hard he tried to explain that Death did not mean the colloquial death, no one would ever truly listen to the younger brother of Thete, the now infamous Doctor.

 

\---

_10 PT_

The Doctor was coming home, Sig-nee-Death had finally started to think of his brother by his title over the last few years. With his parent’s frowns and the others’ sneers, Sig (no he was Death now, he had to remember that) forced himself to divorce from the idea that the Doctor was his brother. He was no longer his brother, he was simply a half-mad Time Lord tramping on the traditions and laws of their great and perfect society.

 _-Perfect my ass-_ Death scowled, all moved from his way. Sometimes it was nice, being Death, no one ever bothered him, no one ever got in his way. However, with his title no one ever talked to him either, no one ever listened. All they ever heard, all they ever saw was what they feared most.

He needed to talk to the Doctor, he was his brother, no matter what his parents said nowadays. The Doctor was still Thete, at least he hoped he was still Thete.

\---

The Doctor stood silently as his peers droned on about his escapades – _you interfered with the lives of other planets… do you admit to these actions?... –_ He knew he should be focusing on what was going on here and now, but all he could think of is Jaime and Zoe trapped in the other room. He did not want any harm to come to them, but he knew his people and he knew that no one would get out unscathed.

“I do not only admit them, I am proud of them!” the Doctor answered, still not fully in the conversation, his thoughts and fears were elsewhere. He let his mouth roam and spoke without truly thinking about them, letting his anger and his indignation guide him. He hated their rules, their hypocrisy, they could do such good for the universe if they only acted!

Before he knew it the court was convened, he must have said something right to require such counsel to take time to think on his words. Now all he had to do was wait - and worry.

\----

Death heard yells down the corridor, _“Let us out! Let us out!”_. The further he walked the louder their cries became until it was just a cacophony of sound. As he turned the corner the sight before him was that of two humans – he could tell from their mental signature – banging and yelling against a force field trapped in front of one of the most poorly disguised TARDIS’ he had ever seen. There could only be one person responsible for such mayhem.

Death stopped before the two, instantly they were silent waiting for him to speak. He quietly and calmly asked in monotone, “Did you come here accompanying the Doctor?”

The woman answered quickly and shrilly “Yes, yes now let us out!”

Death frowned, “You are in a legally sanctioned containment field, I do not have the authority.”

The man answered belligerently in a brusquely different accent than the woman, “Then what do ye’ want?”

“The Doctor,” there was a long pause before he continued haltingly, “Is he now standing trial?”

The humans nodded. Death took that as his answer and began to turn to walk away, but instead of continuing he paused.

Looking back at the humans that seemed to have gained a closeness to Thete that Sig had never truly managed, he knew that whatever the verdict given to his brother these two would be dragged with it.

\---

Zoe and Jaime considered yelling again when the young Time Lord began to turn away, but looked at each other in confusion when he paused in his exit only turn to them and stare in a faraway manner.

This little Time Lord was quite strange, Jaime had to admit, he seemed even more distant and closed off then the others. It was not in the cool polite aloofness the other Time Lords exhibited; it was a more silent sorrowful coldness.

The Time Lord opened his mouth to speak, voice quiet and measured, as if every word had to be extracted with perfect clarity and understanding, “You both will not leave here the same, no matter what judgment is place upon the Doctor, only one outcome his possible for the two of you.”

Jaime shared a look with Zoe, that did not sound good.

Death paused, thinking carefully on how to word this, his mind already starting to touch the minds of the companions, “You will be made to forget all that has happened with the Doctor and be returned to your own times.” Automatically the humans began to protest loudly in disbelief. Death ignored them as he plunged into their unknowing minds. He would not let his people take the memories of the Doctor from them, he made protections and fortifications, planting falsehoods to mislead the Time Lords, and proxies for sacrifice; for no one should be able to forget Thete.

Thete was unforgettable.

Death spoke over their yells, “You will not forget the Doctor,” staring intently into their eyes, “But you will forget me.” With those words he turned on his heel and left, the last suggestion the humans’ minds were that to forget he was ever there, to forget what he did for them.

\---

The Doctor looked up at the screen, watching as his friends were returned, nothing had happened for them. Zoe back to work, and Jaime back to killing Britons. They forgot him. He faked levity only to spite the counsel judging him, even though they probably didn’t truly know the meaning of spite.

 _Oh they know the meaning –_ a whisper slipped through his mind. What? The Doctor looked to the counsel, no one there had spoken, no one would ever do something so preposterous. It was when he looked past the counsel, his own mouth running without thought, that he saw the figure in shadow – _show yourself, stranger –_

The figure stepped forward, still hidden from the oblivious counsel, it was a solemn Time Lord. He was young in face and cold in countenance, no emotion flickered across his mindscape nor his hard eyes. The Doctor hardly recognized him, his little brother, Sigma. – _Sig_ -

Sig slowly nodded – _I am now entitled Death_ -

The Doctor gulped, he had heard rumors, but he never truly believed them in his hearts. Little Sig had always been a happy child, quick to laugh and play. He was a quiet child, but he made up in it with sheer personality. There was no way that sweet little Sig would be something as cold and dark as Death. He was wrong, the rumors were true and now Sig would be an unfeeling witness to his own punishment for doing the right thing.

Sig began to slip back into shadow, one final whisper – _They do remember you, they remember everything; I can’t do anything for you, but I can do that. Goodbye Thete –_ before slipping into the darkness leaving his brother to his fate.


	2. Death No More

_20 PT_

Death sharpened his knives, the clang against the stone filling his silent chamber. His guns were already cleaned and closely inspected by deft and experienced fingers; his boots laced, his armor fastened, all that was left were the knives. If Death were being honest with himself, he would admit that the knives were perfectly serviceable and he was only stalling for time, but he had not been honest with himself for years and he wasn’t about to start now.

He had a schedule to keep, but he rather liked the quiet in his room, there were no screams here, no explosions, no fires. Only him and his knives, and his guns.

The first time they sent him to kill someone was five years ago, he was supposed to be getting his TARDIS license that week; he had studied for months. It wasn’t meant to be.

The war had begun a year before and everyone believed it would be over in little more than a month; it wasn’t over and it wasn’t going to be over any time soon.

With a title like Death, he should have seen it coming; before they feared him, they still feared him, but now they needed him. They needed his expertise, expertise he didn’t have, but apparently he didn’t need it because his name was Death. Sometimes he hated Time Lords.

_-Shink-_ The knives were done, he couldn’t stall any longer, it was time to go and there were no more menial chores he had to accomplish and he was already late as it was. Death stood, sheathing the knives, holstering his guns, his face was blank of all emotion, eyes dark and cold. He wasn’t ready, he was never ready, but he was capable and he was always successful.

Death left his chambers, the sounds of war already filling his ears; he had a job to do, people to kill, and planets to burn.

\-----

“Stop!” – a voice broke through the silence, the knife coated in blood, the throat already slit. Bodies were littered around, some still smoldering – only Death was left standing among the carnage.  

“What have you done?” – it was that voice again, why wasn’t that voice silenced like the others? Death blinked, his eyes could see again.

The Doctor stood before his brother, little Sig was little no longer. He wore black armored clothes, guns holstered to his thighs, knives in his hands dripping with blood. The last time he had seen his little brother was when he had stood trial oh so long ago – so much and so little had changed since then.

Here Sig stood before him, bloodied and still; he was no longer Sig, only a monster created by this dreadful war. The Doctor’s hearts hurt at the sight of what used to be a kindly child, “How could you do this?”

Death looked up in his reverie, who was the Doctor to judge, all he ever did was for Gallifrey – he hated Gallifrey, but no one needed to know, even he barely acknowledged his feelings on the matter, if he did that it would lead to madness. “They were enemies of Gallifrey, so they must die.”

The Doctor shook his head in denial, no, his brother could not have become some mouthpiece of Time Lord propaganda, “They were people, not Daleks!”

- _and Daleks aren’t?_ \- Death ignored him, he had other assignments to get to, it was best not to think. If he started doing that he’d never be able to have the strength to get out of bed, let alone sleep.  

The Doctor watched as Death turned away, “What happened to you?” it came out more of a whisper, a question to the universe – what could turn sweet little Sig into a cold blooded killer.

Death stopped, his shoulders tense and his fists clenched with coiled emotions roiling beneath the surface. A low growl of a voice, rough from disuse, answered, “I was twenty-three when they first ordered me to kill, nothing more than a child, still am one – come to think of it. I never killed before that day, had no idea what I was doing – I got blood everywhere!” He turned toward the Doctor, dark eyes glistening in untold memories, he laughed, it was deranged and empty of humor, but he laughed anyway, “When I got back the first time, do you know what Mother and Father said? They told me ‘Good job son, we’re proud of you – go get cleaned up, dinner will be here when you’re done’” Death shook his head, his voice choked, “I was a child! I hadn’t even gotten my TARDIS license yet!”

“You asked what happened to me brother?” his eyes flashed in anger, voice growling, “War happened!” Death turned and walked away, never looking back – if he looked back he would break.

The Doctor watched as Death walked away, never glancing to the carnage at his feet, the Doctor was not part of the war; he had decided that the moment this dreadful thing started. He let Death go, his hearts broken at the sight, there was nothing the Doctor could do; he couldn’t heal his little brother’s wound – it had festered far too long.

If only he knew – if he had called on his brother, if he had offered a chance to run away – Death would have taken it without the slightest of hesitation.

\-----

_25 PT_

Screams and fire filled the air, finally the war had come to Gallifrey – for so long it had existed in the outer corners of space, slowly encroaching. It had finally come, the end of Gallifrey.

The Doctor stood, old and worn amongst the carnage, so much fire, so much death. He couldn’t take it anymore. The war had changed him, had changed all of the Time Lords; the Doctor could not heal this, he couldn’t even end it.

The Daleks just kept coming, the people just kept dying – the Doctor could not even call himself ‘Doctor’ any longer, not after all the horror he had caused.

_-Doctor-_

No, he couldn’t even think that name, he deserved no such title.

_-Doctor-_ It was nothing but a relic of what once was _–Doctor-_ what will never be again.

_-Brother!-_

“What?” he mumbled, throat dry from the smoke in the air. That voice echoing in his head, it was not his, “Sig, is that you?” It couldn’t be, he hadn’t seen his brother since that time so long ago with Death standing triumphant over the corpses below.

_“Brother,”_ and there he stood, Death, in all his tarnished glory. Dark hair long and matted, a scarred brow and bloodied lip; he wasn’t truly there though – he was nothing but a translucent shade.

“How are you doing this? Why are you here?” the Doctor could think of no reason for conversation, war had happened to both of them.

Death flickered for a moment, disappearing into a blurry haze and solidifying into his semi-transparent state as before, _“I have always been adept at the more mental aspects of our species, but there is no time for lessons Doctor.”_

“Do not call me that, I do not deserve the name!”

_“Don’t interrupt, I haven’t the time,”_ A wild, desperate, gleam shadowed his eyes; it was then that the Doctor noticed the darkened chains on Death’s wrists and the defeated air of his stance.

“Where are you?” he whispered, almost afraid of the answer he would receive.

_“Where I am is of no importance,”_ Death visibly swallowed, collecting his thoughts, _“What is about to happen is.”_ He took in a shuddering breath, briefly flickering in and out of existence; it was then that the Doctor remembered that Death, his little brother, was still nothing more than a child in his peoples’ standards. How could he have fallen so low as to forget that? _“They are going to kill me brother.”_

“Who?” the Doctor questioned, fear coiling in his gut, he already knew the answer; he just wished he was wrong.

_“The Time Lords, I remind them of what they have become; I am the monster they created.”_

“Where are they keeping you,” a fire was starting to burn in his hearts again, if he could do this, if he could save his brother; maybe, just maybe, he could call himself the ‘Doctor’ again.

Sig shook his head, his face cold and serious as it was those five years ago, _“No brother, you cannot save me from this; I am going to die. There is nothing you can do to stop that, but there is something else you can do.”_

The Doctor gritted his teeth, there was always something he could do, he could save his brother he had to –

_“You could end this war, once and for all.”_

“Not before I save you.”

Now Death grit his teeth in frustration, _“You cannot save me from this – even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.”_

“How could you say that?” the Doctor was not going to allow any more on the subject, and that was final.

Death growled, he grew fuzzy around the edges, he was running out of time, _“When you look at the Daleks, do only see them as machines?”_

Of course he did, all the Daleks were only hateful machines with only a semblance of sentience; in the Doctor’s eyes they were the foulest creations in all the universe.

_“I see people, brother. When I kill them and hear them scream, I see people; sentient creatures with thoughts and feelings. I always have,”_ he swallowed thickly, dark eyes glistening in unshed tears, _“I have killed a lot of people brother, far more than you would ever believe. I do not know the number for I never counted, but what I do know are the names, and if I don’t know the names, I know their last words. I remember everyone I have ever killed and I have never counted them, for if I count them, I would forget that it was lives I took. People I have snuffed out.”_ A certain look of madness overtook Death’s face, _“I should have just counted, maybe then I would not be so ready to die.”_

The Doctor let out a shuddering breath, “Oh brother – “

_“Don’t”_ the suggestion of madness was gone from his face, heartless Death had returned, _“As I said, you cannot save me, but you can end this war.”_

“Tell me,” it had gone on long enough, the Doctor could not save his brother, not when he did not want to be saved – after all, did he not give up the title long ago?

_“There is a weapon that we have not yet used. It is hidden in the vault locked away, never to be seen,”_ a saddened smirk played across Death’s lips, _“My execution is sure to be a spectacle – our brethren will be thoroughly distracted. Take the Moment and end this once and for all.”_

The Doctor spluttered in shock, surely not – “The Moment? No, I cannot! It will kill us all!”

Death grew serious once more, letting out an animalistic growl, _“That’s the point!”_

All the Doctor could do was remain silent, his brother’s face had grown sorrowful – his eyes pools of darkness and unspeakable pain.

_“Don’t let them make anyone else like me –_ his voice slowly becoming nothing more than an echo as Sig slowly faded away like the ash from the corpses below.

The Doctor clenched his fist, he could take this no more. He would do this for his brother, if nothing else. There would be no more Death, no more pain, no more screams, no more war, no more Time Lords. Only silence and the Moment.

No more!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during the Time War - most of the inspiration was from the 50th anniversary episode. I hope you enjoyed! :)

**Author's Note:**

> The last bit is with the Second Doctor from the episode "War Games", some were quotes, but most were just paraphrases. Hope you enjoyed! Please review :)


End file.
